Freakin' Perfect
by Sophie writes and stuff
Summary: Sam finds out a secret Rachel has been hiding since she was fourteen. Can he help her through the darkness? EvanBerry  or Samchel if you prefer . WARNING: Story contains self-harm.


**AN: Sorry it's been so long, to all of you who already read my stuff! This is my first Glee fic, and its based on the song 'F**king Perfect' by Pink, and yeah I censored it because Glee doesn't say the F word, so neither will I. Enjoy!**

Sam Evans watched Rachel Berry from across the little annexed room the New Directions had been allocated in which to change for Nationals. She seemed edgy, out-of-place, and when nobody else was looking, she slipped out of the door, clutching her costume. Sam was curious, and worried, so he quickly followed her, catching a glimpse of her skirt fabric brushing past the door to the disabled toilet. He saw the door slam, and saw that, in her haste, she didn't turn the lock to 'Engaged'. Was she feeling sick? Sam, being the natural worrier that he was, slowly crossed over to the door and pulled the door open just a fraction. What he saw almost made _him_ feel sick.

Rachel was there in just her bra and skirt, and branded into Rachel Berry's stomach were glaring words in clumsy, bloody scars, evidently self-inflicted. Sam could just make out three phrases: 'waste of space', 'man-hands', and 'not his type'. The last one made Sam feel like he was the one being cut into, and he could feel tears pricking at his eyes. How could this beautiful, talented girl do this to herself? He looked at her face, and saw that tears were running down her face too, as she touched the rawest one, 'not his type', before starting to slip into her dress. Sam took in a sudden sniff, trying to stem his tears, and Rachel froze, whirling around.  
>"Who's there?" she called. Sam stood stock still, hoping she would turn back. After a moment, she did, and Sam immediately shut the door and ran away, until he was at least out of Rachel's possible earshot. Then he sat abruptly on the floor and took a moment to process his thoughts. Rachel was a self-harmer? The bouncy, breezy, brunette Broadway fanatic? Somewhere in Sam's mind it wasn't making sense. He was going to have to talk to Rachel. Suddenly he saw her round the corner and stop when she saw him.<p>

"Hey, Sam, what are you doing out here?" she asked, smiling. Then she faltered, noticing his tear-streaked face. "A-are you okay? You look like you've been crying..."

"Yeah... Well, actually, no, I'm not." He stood up and turned to face her. "I saw you leave the room, and I was worried, so I followed you. When I saw you go into the toilets and leave the door unlocked, I thought you were gonna throw up or something like that. So... I opened it..."

"That was you, then? The sniff?"

"Yeah that was me, because I'm sure as hell gonna be upset if I see that someone as beautiful as you feels the need to do that to herself!" he burst out, the tears flowing freely again. "God, Rachel! You've got talent, and looks, and you're going places! You can't let stupid insults get to you! And you know why I feel so awful? Because one of those scars, your newest one, is because of me, and my own goddamn stupidity! I never should have pushed you away that day by my locker. My mind was just so messed up with all my own troubles, I didn't think before I spoke. I'm so damn sorry, Rachel..."

Now Rachel's tears were back, and worse than before, and Sam suddenly swept her into a hug and the two of them held tight to one another, united in sorrow and regret.

"Sam! Rach!" came the voice of Mr Schuester from around the corner.

"Crap." Sam cursed, looking down at the tiny girl in his arms. "You okay to go back?"

"I-I think so." she said with a minute smile. "This has gone on for a while, in case you hadn't noticed. I'm used to sweeping it under the rug... Are _you _ready to go back?"

"Sure." Sam wiped his face with the back of his hand. "Let's go." He extended a hand to her, and the two of them walked towards the sound of Mr Schue's voice.

* * *

><p>The night after Nationals, the Glee club was riding high, confident that the judges' decision tomorrow would be the right one. Sam was heading to his room when he spotted Rachel fumbling with the key-card to her room.<p>

"Dammit, stupid, oh shoot!" she exclaimed as she dropped the piece of plastic. Sam was there in a second, picking it up for her.

"Allow me to grant you access to these fine lodgings, ma'am." He swiped the key-card with ease as he spoke, and she giggled.

"Thanks, Sam."

Sam knew she didn't just mean the help with the key-card.

"I'm not a bad guy, Rach, I'm just all kinds of messed up myself."

"Well aren't we a sorry pair?" she sighed. It was Sam's turn to laugh.

"I guess we are... What do you mean by 'pair'?" Sam asked her. "I'm not asking anything of you, Rach, I just wanna know where I stand."

"Well, I guess we could start off being friends, if you'd like." Rachel looked up at Sam, and his kind eyes smiled down at her, along with those cute lips of his.

"I'd like that very much." Sam told her, and Rachel returned his smile. "And if we're gonna be friends, I'd like to hear everything about..." He nodded towards her stomach.

"Come in." she said, and he complied, Rachel shutting the door behind them.

"Just go ahead and sit on the bed. You want Doritos? My dads gave me like five bags for the journey up here and I totally forgot about them." She dug in her bag briefly, and Sam laughed as he sat down.

"Dorito shards, just what the doctor ordered." he joked, and she laughed too. Sam couldn't help but think that Rachel Berry's laugh was one of the most beautiful laughs he had ever heard. She threw a few bags at him and carried the others over, sitting cross-legged on the bed opposite him.

"It started when I was fourteen. My dads had arranged a birthday party for me and invited everyone from my class. I waited, and waited, but nobody showed. I even went and sat on the doorstep, but nothing. Then suddenly I saw people walking towards me, and I leaped up, elated. When Quinn, Santana and Brittany came into view, I was worried. They seemed way too calm. When they walked up, Quinn said to me 'Oh, Berry, did you think we were actually coming to your party? You're such a waste of space!' and she shoved me, I fell down onto the doorstep, and then she... Slushied me. That was the birth of the Slushie facial. That night I ran up to my room, crying and desperate for something to take away the pain. The first thing I saw was a knife I'd used to open a package that morning..."

"Oh Rach... Is that where 'waste of space' came from? That first time when you were fourteen?"

Rachel nodded. "I used to scrape the scabs off with that same knife when I felt worse, and there were times when I felt like I needed to add another word or phrase."

"So... 'Man-Hands', I've heard Santana call you that."

"It caught on in a big way last year. So that one is from last year, and so is 'frigid' and 'worthless'."

"And I know where 'not his type' comes from."

"There's another scar that even you won't have seen. It's not on my stomach." she said, her voice quavering.

"Where is it Rach?" Sam asked gently, touching her hand softly.

"M-my leg." She whispered.

"Is that why you're always in long socks?" Rachel nodded again, slowly reaching down to remove the sock on her right leg, and as it fell to the floor, Sam tilted his head and was shocked to read 'you can't even sing anyway'.

"Who the hell had the nerve to say that to you?" Rachel's head dropped. "Please, Rach, tell me."

"S-sant-tana." she whispered brokenly, starting to sob.

"I'm gonna destroy her! I swear to you, Rach, she will rue the day she said those words to you!"

"Can you, for my sake, not beat her up? I just couldn't handle the thought of the violence. If you must, for lack of a better phrase, avenge me, do it some other way. That's all I ask."

Sam considered this for a moment, and then nodded. "Okay, Rach. C'mere." he said, pulling her into a hug, rubbing her back in soothing circles. Rachel let out a sigh of relaxation, her whole body falling limp in Sam's arms. Her breathing became more regular, and Sam realised she must have fallen asleep, so he simply adjusted himself so he was resting on the pillow, with the sleeping Rachel sprawled half on the bed and half on him. He stroked her hair softly until he too fell into a deep sleep.

* * *

><p>The three show choirs stood on the stage that next morning, waiting with bated breath. New Directions were looking at one another anxiously, all linked hands. Sam had Rachel's tiny hand clutched tightly in his. He knew how much Nationals meant to her. It meant so much to all of them. The judge stepped up to the mic, the third-place trophy in hand.<p>

"Well, folks, this year's third-placers are... Voices United!"  
>The show choir furthest away from the New Directions received their trophy and left the stage. The judge moved to the trophy table and picked up the first-place trophy.<p>

"And ladies and gentlemen, without further ado, the winner of this year's Nationals... the New Directions!"

A moment of numb shock descended on the group, then Mercedes screamed in delight, and everyone's silence was broken with shouts and squeals as Mr Schuester stepped up and took the trophy, staggering under its weight.

"We did it! We actually did it!" Rachel shouted to Sam, joyful tears clouding her vision. Sam scooped her into his arms and whirled her round, laughing in pure bliss. The two of them looked at one another for a long moment, and there was a lingering spark of something between them. Then, just as suddenly, Sam was dragged away from Rachel by Puck and Mike, who clapped one another on the back. Rachel turned to Mercedes and Tina and pulled them both into a hug, giggling. Sam looked over at Rachel, only noticing now just how well she could really act, could put on that façade like someone else might put on a shirt. It worried him a lot how hidden Rachel's true feelings were. She couldn't keep this a secret forever. She had to get help. As the group headed back to the hotel to pack her bags, Sam took a seat on the bus next to Rachel.

"Rach, can we talk?"

"Sure, Sam."

"Okay, I know you won't wanna hear this, but you have to see someone about your problem. You can't keep doing this to yourself. I don't want to force you into this, but if I have to then I will tell Miss Pillsbury."

Rachel sighed. "You're right, Sam. I know. Somewhere in this mess is a person who knows that she can rise above those comments, but she's buried pretty deep."

"I can help you find her, but I can't do it alone. You need to see Miss P."

"I promise." Rachel said. The pair caught one another's gaze again, and that spark came back, their faces moving closer, slowly and surely, until their lips met in a kiss, soft and sweet at first, then suddenly growing deeper as Rachel's tongue teased at Sam's bottom lip, asking for entrance, and he let her in, their kiss turning harder as they wrapped their arms around one another...

"Oh my God that is disgusting." Santana shouted. "Hey everybody, Man-Hands is sucking face with Trouty Mouth!"

"Dude that is gross, get a room." Puck chipped in.

"Rachel, Sam, that's enough of that please!" Mr Schuester called from the front seat. Sam and Rachel broke apart, breathing heavily and both blushing. Then Rachel laughed, and Sam did too.

"Saw this one coming." Sam chuckled.

"Me too." Rachel giggled, leaning forward and rubbing noses with Sam in an Eskimo kiss.

* * *

><p>A few weeks later, Glee club was mainly chilling out with no competitions to prepare for, doing fun assignments. Rachel was getting help from Miss Pillsbury, and Sam was always a phone call away if Rachel ever felt like picking that knife up again. The scars were starting to fade, but Sam and Rachel both knew they would never go away completely. The only two which looked like they would fade totally were 'not his type', much to Sam's delight, and 'you can't even sing anyway', which was a relief for them both. The pair's relationship was still going strong, and coming up for a one-month anniversary. Sam had the perfect gift for her, and he had prepared it with precision. The day of the anniversary, Sam blindfolded Rachel and led her to the auditorium, helping her to sit down before removing her blindfold.<p>

"Sam, what..."

"Don't say anything. Just relax and enjoy."

Sam leaped up on the stage and grabbed his guitar, strumming one chord to check the tuning then launching into the song he had been practising since this time one month ago.

_Made a wrong turn, once or twice_

_Dug my way out, blood and fire_

_Bad decisions, that's alright_

_Welcome to my silly life_

_Mistaken_

_Always second guessing_

_Underestimating_

_Look, I'm still around_

_Pretty, pretty please_

_Don't you ever, ever feel_

_Like you're less than freakin' perfect_

_Pretty, pretty please_

_If you ever, ever feel_

_Like you're nothing_

_You're freakin' perfect to me._

_I'm done looking for the critics 'cause they're everywhere_

_They don't like my jeans, they don't get my hair_

_Estrange ourselves, and we do it all the time_

_Why do we do that? Why do I do that?_

_(Why do I do that?)_

_Pretty, pretty please_

_Don't you ever, ever feel_

_Like you're less than freakin' perfect_

_Pretty, pretty please_

_If you ever, ever feel_

_Like you're nothing_

_You're freakin' perfect to me_

_You're perfect, you're perfect_

_Pretty, pretty please_

_If you ever, ever feel_

_Like you're nothing_

_You're freakin' perfect to me_

Sam slowly lowered his guitar to the floor, smiling. Rachel's eyes were brimming with tears as she ran onto the stage and into Sam's arms, kissing him passionately.

"I mean it. You really are freakin' perfect, Rachel Barbra Berry." Sam whispered into her ear when they pulled apart for air.

"I love you, Sam Evans!" Rachel shouted to the empty auditorium as she hugged Sam tightly.

"I love you too, Rach."

* * *

><p>"Mommy?"<p>

Rachel looked over at her five-year old daughter Jennifer, who was smiling radiantly up at her.

"Yes sweetie?"

"Aren't you really warm in that shirt? It's such pretty weather today!"

"Mommy's fine, sweetie." Rachel reassured Jennifer.

"Daddy's got ice-cream!" came a voice from up the beach, and Jennifer and her three-year old brother Leo scrambled over and clung to the legs of Sam Evans, carrying four ice-cream cones with flakes and having great difficulty.

"Easy guys, easy!" he laughed, bending to their level. "There you go, one each."  
>"Thanks, Daddy!"Jennifer and Leo said in unison, running back down the sandbanks to paddle in the sea.<p>

Sam sat down beside Rachel and put an arm around her, handing her an ice-cream and starting to eat the final one himself. Rachel watched the kids for a moment, before catching sight of the way Sam was eating his ice-cream."

"Stop it." she whispered. "The kids are right there, and we're on a public beach."

Sam looked up at her, ice-cream all around his mouth. "What?"

"You know perfectly well what." she replied, before proceeding to pull the flake out of her ice-cream and slide it into her mouth, removing the ice-cream from it. Sam visibly shuddered, and his grip on his ice-cream cone tightened.

"Baby, you're getting me all fired up now." Sam whispered.

"Well you shouldn't have started it."

Sam finished his ice-cream in two swift bites and captured Rachel's lips with his, before pulling back.

"I love you, Rachel Barbra Evans." he said with a radiant smile, gently touching the golden wedding band on her left hand with the tip of his finger.

"I love you too, Sam."

**What did you think? Review please!**


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